


as soon as i can hold you once again

by interstellarbeams



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reunion Sex, written post Spider-Man: Homecoming/pre Infinity War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:33:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Peter and Michelle broke it off after he became an Avenger but now that he’s moved back home he can’t wait to see her again. Michelle isn’t quite so enthusiastic.





	as soon as i can hold you once again

**Author's Note:**

> Written after Spiderman: Homecoming and before Infinity War so this isn’t spoiler-y. 
> 
> Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. Enjoy! <3

“Come on, Peter,” Ned pleaded, “This party is supposed to be awesome and I think you should come. There's going to be some hot girls there, and alcohol and you can reconnect with the neighborhood, ya know?”

“I don't know, Ned,” Peter sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, “I’m kinda tired and I still have all these boxes to unpack.”

“You can still be tired at the party and your stuff will still be here when you get back. Come on, I promise you'll have a good time.” Ned stated, unsympathetically, knocking his knees into Peter’s. 

“For me,” Ned fluttered his eyelashes like Scarlett O’Hara, Peter snickered at the sight, “ _Please_?”

“Okay, but only cause you asked nicely!” 

“Yes!” Peter laughed, as Ned launched out of the desk chair and almost tripped over a box marked ‘misc’. Ned handed Peter his jacket and they were ready to go.

Peter followed Ned out into the hallway and through the front door. They traveled down the stairs slowly, joking and messing around.

Peter really had missed Ned. Ned was still his “guy in the chair” even though he didn't have the job, necessarily and he was still Peter's biggest support despite his built in suit AI “Karen.”

Ned had already mentioned getting the “Scooby Gang” back together but Peter wasn't sure if he was emotionally ready to go there. He and Michelle had parted ways on friendly terms but they hadn’t really spoken since. Peter winced at the thought of their official face-to-face meeting. _I'm gonna be in so much trouble_ , Peter thought.

 

———

 

They met up with some friends of Ned’s -- that he had made in his classes at _Parsons School of Design_ \-- down on the street corner and started to walk down to the party.

They were an interesting and eccentric bunch. Peter suspected that many of them had already been pre-partying and most were a little tipsy. They yelled and laughed loudly and it was honestly giving Peter a headache. 

He was starting to wish that he hadn't decided to come. He really didn't feel like being around boisterous people at the moment. Staying at home, unpacking and then going to bed early sounded like a much better plan. Even being on neighborhood watch sounded more appealing.

As they continued down the familiar street, Peter started getting deja vu, remembering another night many years before, but he had been the tipsy one then, and it had just been him, Ned and Michelle.

It had been the night of Ned’s graduation party and Ned had snuck some wine coolers up to his bedroom after all of his friends and extended family members had gone home.

They had played truth or dare and a very sloppy game of Monopoly. Ned was so out of it that he couldn't even deal out money as the banker and Michelle had been whooping both their asses by buying up all the hotels. Peter couldn't ever remember having a better time. It had gotten later and later and _finally_ , despite their state of intoxication, the boys had decided to make sure Michelle got home safe.

They had walked these same streets, with the streetlights shining down on them and the neighborhood dogs barking at each and every loud laugh and boisterous shout.

He had walked her to her door while Ned hung back by the mailbox, shouting unnecessarily helpful make out tips at them. Peter had rolled his eyes at Ned’s drunkenness, although he hadn't been much better, and kissed her goodbye. He had been too out of it to have much finesse but she had smiled at him when he had told her goodnight.

The next day, Michelle had broken up with him and his summer (and future) had taken a very steep downward turn. 

He shook himself out of his funk as they came up to the door of the house party. The windows were thrown wide, loud music and uproarious laughter filtered out, filling the normally quiet night air with noise.

Peter stood on the sidewalk, watching as Ned and his friends crowded in, like sardines packed in a can. Ned didn't even look back, maybe forgetting amongst the crowd of his new friends that he was missing one important detail -- Peter -- but really didn't mind, he had only come because Ned had asked him.

He sighed, wondering if he should just turn around and go back home or maybe head out on patrol and scope out his old haunts. 

Kicking a rock across the asphalt he noticed the coffee and donut shop across the street that reminded him of all the times he and Michelle would meet to _study_ \-- read: hold hands and flirt -- there on the weekends, and how her house was only a few blocks from where he stood.

He knew Michelle didn't like to party, she preferred to stay at home and work on schoolwork or read a novel in the quiet of her own living room. _She was probably at home, right now, actually._

He made a rash decision, thinking screw it, and started heading her way. 

 

———

 

Peter walked along the sidewalk, counting how many streetlights he passed -- trying to distract himself from being nervous -- before coming to her mailbox. It was still painted dark green like it had been that warm, late spring day, when he had walked passed it for the last time, his heart sunk low in his chest. Peter felt a pang just now at the sight of it.

He blew out a nervous breath as he crossed the cracked walkway and went up the porch steps. He stood there for a few minutes cursing himself for a coward. 

_Alright, Peter, so you can face down Vulture and Thanos and multiple petty criminals but you can't face your ex-girlfriend_ , he thought, anxiously. 

He knocked quickly, afraid that if he didn't do it now then he would lose his nerve. 

The door swung open almost immediately and Peter came face to face with Michelle.

“Oh, Peter...it's you,” she breathed, quietly. Her curls were looser than they had been back in high school and they caressed the curve of her cheeks softly. 

Peter couldn't help but stare. He had forgotten how much she affected him.

“Um-- hi.” Peter peered over Michelle's shoulder, noticing the darkness of the house, only the living room was lit up by two lamps on either side of the beige couch.

“Do you, uh-- mind if I come in? I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I would come and see how you were doing. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and all that...”

Peter trailed off, realizing that he had been rambling and she probably didn't catch half of what he said. 

Michelle watched him warily, as if she suspected him of hiding something. Peter wanted to tell her he was always an open book when it came to her but he figured now probably wasn't the time to have that conversation.

He suddenly felt exposed standing there under the yellow light of the porch with her dark eyes staring into him like she could see into his soul. He anxiously looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see one of his arch-nemesis ready to attack, and shifted his feet against the welcome mat.

“I don't think that's a good idea, Parker.” Michelle stated brusquely, but her eyes said something different, as Peter's came back to rest on her face.

Peter watched her quietly -- he had learned patience after so many years of watching over their neighborhood -- and he noticed the emotions warring on her face before she stepped to the side to let him through.

He heard her sigh, audibly, at the click of the door closing. Peter wasn't sure if she meant for him to hear her aggravation or if she didn't realize she had released it.

She turned around and sat down on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her and crossing her arms defensively. She didn't offer Peter a seat or a drink -- there was a glass of wine on the coffee table next to a jacket-less hardback novel -- but Peter figured he deserved that after his radio silence over the last five years.

“I heard you came back into town. Did you get sick of the world's mightiest heroes?” She fired at him, after an uncomfortable few minutes of silence.

“Uh, no-- _no_ , not really,” Peter admitted, “I love the Avengers and I love to fight alongside them. They're my friends and they’ll always have my back… Tony even told me that I was “always welcome” and could stay at the compound as long as I wanted to but I uh-- felt like a break. I felt like it was time to come back home again.”

Michelle rolled her eyes at his answer, but she kept whatever she was thinking to herself, for the moment.

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted his feet against the antique Aubusson rug. 

“So… Uh-- How have you been? I would have asked Ned but he was so busy talking about this stupid party tonight that I couldn't get a word in edgewise.” Peter chuckled, but Michelle just stared at him. 

“I’ve been fine,” Michelle stated, “You didn't have to come all the way down here to swap pleasantries with me, Peter. That's what cellphones are for.”

Peter ignored her sarcastic quip -- _he was pretty sure he had lost her number a few dead cellphones ago anyways_ \-- and glanced around the room. The picture frames on the mantle were the same ones that had been there five years ago, “Are your parents home or…?”

“They don't live here anymore. They moved to Florida last year, actually,” Michelle said, in her best, if-you-had-stuck-around-you-might-know-some-of-these-things voice, “They leased the house to me while I work on my degree.”

“Oh, well, good for them and you. I hope they're enjoying the sunshine.” Peter smiled down at her, his friendliest smile plastered on his face.

Peter knew that Michelle was getting aggravated, her fingers tapped restlessly against her leg, and her polite look was just as fixed as his smile.

She reached for the wineglass on the table and took a sip and Peter noticed the unsteadiness in her hand as she set it back down. 

“Are you okay?” Peter blurted out, stepping closer to the couch, the coffee table and her high emotional walls the only thing between them.

“ _Okay_? No, I'm not okay, Peter!” Michelle pressed her hand against her mouth like she was ashamed of what she had just said, but then she shook her head and dropped her hand, “How can I be okay when you left me here five years ago with barely a goodbye? And then you just waltz in here, without a care, and act like you belong here.” Michelle blew out a breath in frustration, as she jumped up from the couch.

Peter stared at her in surprise. 

“Don't give me that look,” she spat at him angrily, brushing her bangs away from her face with one hand and narrowing her eyes at him, “I don't care why you left your precious Avengers or why you're here _now_ but I want you to leave. Just _go_!” 

Peter was stunned, watching as Michelle stepped around the couch and leaned up against it with her back to him.

Peter didn't know what to do. He thought his spidey senses would come in handy during situations like this, but they really weren't meant to help him deal with an emotional woman with a five-year-old grudge.

He had thought that they would always be friends, the best of friends, but after their breakup he had gotten so busy with the Avengers. Then it had felt too awkward to be around her without being able to touch her or kiss her. It was hard to be just her friend, especially after all they had together, and he still loved her despite the heartbreak. He just hadn't been able to deal with it so he had distanced himself. He thought that that was what she had wanted too.

That spring day after graduation had been the worst day of his life. He had had dreams of dating throughout college and maybe getting a place together after they graduated and started their fulfilling, new jobs.

Michelle had different plans, apparently. She told him that he would be a distraction for her during her classes in university and that they should take a break. 

Peter had thought it was a mutual yet heartbreaking decision to part ways. 

She hadn't been able to look at him that day, Peter had assumed that she didn't want to see the broken look on his face but maybe she hadn't wanted him to see hers.

 _Still_ , here Michelle was acting like it was his fault.

“Excuse me?” Peter shot back, “I’m not the only one at fault here. _You_ were the one who wanted to break up!”

“ _My_ fault? You seriously think it was _mine_?” Michelle whirled around, coming to stand in front of the couch, once again, “You just walked out, without a second glance.”

“Because I thought that was what you wanted,” Peter argued back, “How could I stay here with you, when you told me I was a distraction. I was just _trying_ to respect your wishes.”

Michelle scoffed, “Good ol’ Peter Parker always doing what everyone tells him to. The perfect nephew, the perfect student, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect Avenger!”

“I never said that! I never said I was a perfect _anything_. I was just trying to do my best, just like everyone else!” Peter replied, voice raised in annoyance.

Michelle sniffed, like she was about to cry, and Peter watched as she took another drink of wine. Her anger had brought a fresh onrush of blood to her cheeks and she was flushed and beautiful.

“I still loved you, ya know?” Peter admitted softly, all traces of anger gone.

“Yeah, right! Then why did you leave me? Why didn't you ever call me? You didn't even text me to tell me that you were moving back here!” Michelle slammed the glass down on the coffee table and Peter heard a crash as the glass broke under her grip. 

She sucked in a quick pain-filled breath and Peter was immediately there, grabbing her hand in both of his and frantically checking the bleeding wound for shards of glass.

He pushed her down to sit on the couch and ran to the bathroom for the first aid kit, hoping he didn't trip over anything in the darkened hallway, and grabbed a towel from the linen closet on his way back to the living room. 

Michelle looked so dejected sitting there, cradling her injured hand close to her body and tears running down her face.

“ _Shit_ , MJ-- don't cry. It’ll be alright.” Peter placed the towel down across her lap and carefully laid her arm out on it. Wiping the beading blood with a gauze square from the first aid kit, he tenderly smoothed antibiotic cream over the cut.

He looked up, quickly, when he felt a teardrop hit his hand. Michelle was hunched over, shoulders shaking. “Shh, shh… Hold on, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Peter unwrapped a bandage and smoothed it across the long, yet shallow cut on her palm. Racing to the kitchen he filled a glass with water from the sink before hurrying back to the couch. 

He poured two painkillers into her uninjured hand before holding the glass of water steady so she could drink.

Peter set the glass down on the coffee table, and ignoring the mess of spilled wine and broken glass, he sat down across from her.

Michelle sniffed again, wiping at her face with one hand, before staring down into her lap. 

She looked up at him, finally, and the brokenness was clear as day on her face. Peter felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest, at the sight. 

He watched her for a few more minutes, as her trembling and tearful gasps slowed.

She reached her hand out toward him -- her fingers were long and elegant and her palm was petite in comparison. They were hands that had comforted him and caressed him, hands that would always be the first to touch him intimately. He loved them, he loved every part of her.

Peter didn’t know what she was intending to do but when she grabbed a hold of his hand and tugged, he came willingly, and sat next to her on the couch.

She rested her head against his shoulder and fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. Peter figured she was probably going to fall asleep after crying herself out. 

Then she spoke: “It hurts, but not as much as losing you,” Michelle whispered.

Peter watched her for a minute, her brow was furrowed in pain -- emotional or physical -- he wasn't sure, but when she didn't say anything more he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Lifting her bandaged hand to his lips, he kissed it softly, “It hurt to lose you too. Still does.” 

Michelle lifted her head to look at him, a hopeful look on her face. 

“It doesn't have to,” Michelle added. Her brown eyes were dark and warm and then she glanced down towards his lips and Peter was lost.

He stared into her eyes for a moment but he didn't see any rejection or anger left in them.

He pushed a curl behind her ear, reveling in the softness of her hair against his fingertips. Then he leaned closer, slowly, giving her a chance to turn away or change her mind, but she didn't.

Peter moaned unashamedly when their lips touched for the first time in what felt like forever.

She leaned into him almost immediately, her uninjured hand skated across the back of his neck making him shiver.

Her lips were soft and familiar under his as he cupped her cheek in his palm. She tasted sweet and tart like the wine she had been drinking earlier and Peter couldn't get enough.

She sighed into his mouth as his fingers caressed the back of her neck and trailed down her spine.

Suddenly, Peter's phone rang and he jumped. Fumbling it out of his pocket, he checked the caller ID, “Ned-inator” flashed across the screen. 

“ _Ned_.” Peter groaned.

“Hello.” 

It was hard to hear Ned with all the noise in the background, “ _Dude_ , ... are you? I can't find you! Did you skip ...again, like you did back in tenth grade at Liz’s party? _Not_ cool.” 

“Ned, _NED_ ,” Peter yelled into the phone, “Don't worry about me. I’ll be home by tomorrow.”

“Okay, just make sure you ... safe,” Ned laughed into the phone, “I think I found someone to take home. I’ll call you with deets, okay! Bye.”

Peter ended the call and glancing back over at Michelle, he noticed her smirking, “ _What_?” 

“He’ll call you with _deets_ , tomorrow!” Michelle laughed, leaning against the back of the couch, eyes shining and happy, “You and Ned are still a couple of dorks.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “I guess that means you want me to go,” he tensed, as if to get up off the couch but Michelle was having none of it. She wrapped her arm around his neck before straddling his hips.

She hissed at the pressure that it put on her injured hand but she ignored it, “Who says you're going anywhere?”

Peter swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she replied before bending her head to his again.

Her hands went into his hair, scratching along his scalp with her short nails, and Peter sucked in a breath as she ground against him with her hips.

Peter's hand went straight to her back and he trailed his fingers up again, teasingly but this time his hand met skin and he felt her surprised intake of air.

His fingers teased and caressed the smooth curve of her back as her lips met his again.

She opened her mouth against his, her tongue caressing his -- tasting and savoring -- as Peter flipped them over and pushed her into the couch.

Michelle gasped, as he pressed up into her, and grasped at his shoulders seeking purchase as he bent his head to her neck, lips teasing against her sensitive earlobe on the way down.

Suddenly, Peter pulled back and Michelle whimpered at the loss of contact.

“How much wine have you had?” Peter asked. 

His hair stood on end from her questing fingers and yet, Michelle didn't laugh at him as she might have in the past. 

“Not much, just a few sips from that glass earlier,” Michelle replied, eyes hazy and shirt pushed off one shoulder to reveal a lacy black bralette. 

Peter’s eyes grew darker, and he gasped out a quiet “okay” before leaning back in, lips teasing the side of her neck and slowly descending to her collarbone.

Michelle arched her back, pushing her breasts up into his chest as Peter's hands caressed her sides. His hands slowly moved up and over her rib cage, tantalizingly close to the swell of her breasts.

“Peter?” Michelle panted, and Peter snatched his hands away quickly, almost as if he had been burned.

Michelle laughed, huskily, her voice raspy with want. Peter smiled down at her, sheepishly, like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

Resting her hands on his upper arms, she smiled up at him, “It's okay. I was just going to say that we should move this to the bedroom.” 

Peter closed his eyes tightly, trying to calm the racing of his heart and the desire coursing through him. “Do you want to?” Peter asked, opening his eyes and blowing out a calming breath.

“ _Yes_ or I wouldn't have suggested it.“ Michelle teased.

Peter stood from the couch and reached his hand out towards her. After a short pause, she clasped it with her own and let him help her from the couch.

He let her lead the way, unsurprised when they came to her familiar door. Peter looked around the room, noting the similarities to her teenage bedroom and marveling at the stacks of books against the far wall. 

“Well, this is oddly familiar,” Peter teased, as she pushed him down onto the bed.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Michelle laughed, the glow from the string of lights above her bed giving her curls a hazy halo.

“Wait,” Peter stopped her. “Can I say something. It's uh-- kinda important.”

“Okay,” Michelle sat down next to him on the bed.

Peter paused for a few minutes, attempting to gather his thoughts and keep his libido in check at the same time.

“I would have stayed that summer. I loved you -- _still_ do -- and I thought that we would be together after high school through college and after that… I don't know,” Peter shrugged, self-consciously, afraid to admit out loud that he had envisioned marrying her.

“And about the Avengers -- I really did enjoy fighting on their team. Helping save the world really does make you feel good, amazing actually, but it never filled me to the brim with happiness, like I felt when I was with you. That's why I came back.” Peter admitted.

Michelle watched him solemnly. He looked down at the fluffy duvet, pleating the cover between his fingers over and over again. She stopped his fidgeting with the touch of her hand. 

“Peter, I believe you,” Michelle sighed, deeply. “It really was my fault. I let my insecurities get in the way of what I really wanted. Which is _you_ , if you didn't already guess.” 

She smiled, one corner of her mouth lifted slightly as she squeezed his hand.

“Do you forgive me?” Michelle asked, bending her head down to catch his gaze. 

“Of course, if you'll forgive me too -- for letting you go to easily.” Peter smiled back, brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

She bent her head to his once more and kissed him softly, almost tenderly. _Sealed with a kiss_ , Peter thought, before getting lost in her once again.

———

 

Peter almost -- _almost_ \-- felt ashamed by how quickly she could turn him on but then all thoughts, except those about her, ceased to exist.

He was in the moment with her, right now and he wasn't ready to let go.

Michelle's lips were soft and yet they set him on fire. She moved against him slowly and languorously, his jeans almost a torture now that she had him where she wanted him.

Michelle pressed down into him again and Peter swore, breathlessly as he flipped them over. Her hair fanned out around her on the pillows but Peter barely noticed. He was intent on torturing her slowly the way she had been torturing him. 

He reached down and lifted her shirt over her head, swiftly, barely waiting for it to be off her arms before his lips were on her lace covered nipple. 

She moaned low in her throat at the contact, grasping at his hair, his shirt… anything she could get her hands on. Her back arched off the bed at the pressure of his teeth against one of her most sensitive areas. Peter blew a breath out over the dampened lace and Michelle felt like she might explode.

She gasped out his name before dragging his head back up to hers, her lips claiming his in a kiss. Her tongue stroked along his while she trailed her fingers down his sides before she pulled his shirt off, as well. 

Peter quickly tossed it to the side, before pulling her up off the bed into his lap, her legs coming to rest on either side of him. Their hands caressed and smoothed over any available skin they could reach but it still wasn't enough for Peter.

His hands went to the edge of her lace bralette and he looked up into her eyes for confirmation. As soon as Michelle nodded he pulled it up and off, marveling at the beautiful dusky skin on display.

“God,” Peter whispered, “I forgot how beautiful you were.”

Michelle rolled her eyes but hid her head in his neck, almost shyly, causing her bare breasts to be pressed into him, inflaming him even more.

Peter wasn't afraid of being laid bare in front of her but maybe she still had some small, niggling doubts about him still. Maybe he should pull back some, and slow things down a little.

His bent his head and his lips returned to hers softly, teasing, before he pressed them to her forehead, cheeks and the tip of her nose.

He trailed slow kisses down her neck, small, seeking kisses that were barely there before they were gone.

Finally after several torturous minutes, she trailed her hands up his biceps and claimed his lips once again.

They were still on fire but now it was a smoldering ember ready to burst into flame. 

They both gasped for breath as they pulled back from each other. Michelle pulled his hands from her waist and pressed them to her breasts and Peter groaned at the weight of them in his hands. His thumbs immediately brushed against their tips, causing her back to arch in ecstasy. 

“Peter, I can’t--” Michelle whispered, in a gasping breath against his neck.

“I know, I know--” Peter murmured back, as he kissed his way down her sternum, “I’ve got you.”

He laid her down against the pillows and unbuttoned her pants before drawing them down her legs, pressing a featherlight kiss against her belly before dragging his lips back to hers.

Michelle forcefully shoved his pants off, unashamedly, and kissed him back desperately.

Peter couldn't think as he settled himself back between her legs, the only thing left between them -- a few scraps of cotton and lace. Michelle trailed her lips across his shoulder and whimpered against his skin when his erection pressed against her most sensitive area.

“Peter, please--” she gasped out, as he trailed his hands back down to her hips, pressing her center against him in a painful yet glorious ache. 

Peter dragged her head up, placing a small kiss on the tip of her nose, “Are you sure?” He asked for what felt like the millionth time.

“Peter--” Michelle ground out between her teeth, “If you don't take me right now, I will scream.”

“I’ll take that as he compliment,” Peter chuckled, willingly facing her wrath by finding humor in the moment, but he bent himself to the task, both literally and figuratively.

He quickly removed his boxers, and skimmed Michelle’s panties down her long, slim legs. He wished he could stop, just a minute, to give them the attention they deserved but he would have to wait for a more leisurely moment when they weren't both so desperate.

Michelle whimpered -- almost sighed -- at the feel of him as he filled her. Her fingers tightened against his shoulders as he set a slow, torturous pace, every slow withdrawal and return bringing her closer to the edge of release.

Sweat dripped from Peter's hair onto her chest as he moved within her, breath rasping in his chest. Her eyes and her warmth surrounding him were the only thing grounding him in that moment.

The pleasant ache slowly increased to a wild inferno as they held onto each other. Peter's lips glanced against her cheekbone as he pressed one last kiss to her lips before he came undone.

Peter stared into her eyes as he felt her clench around him. Her beautiful, brown eyes all that he saw as her satisfied exhale ghosted against his ear, causing him to shiver one last time before he pulled out and rolled over onto his back. 

He pulled Michelle into his side, carefully while he waited for his heart to slow in his chest.

“Peter?” Michelle asked, her voice soft and content.

“Hmm?” Peter hummed, rubbing her arm languidly.

“I’m glad you're back,” she admitted, turning her head on the pillow to smile over at him.

“Me too,” Peter replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, before falling asleep with her familiar warmth next to him.


End file.
